Yours Always, Booth
by NatesMama
Summary: A series of letters from Booth to Bones, in no particular order and no specific timeline.
1. Letter 1

**This is a new project I started last year before the Season Five premiere, but abandoned after a few chapters because I just wasn't feeling it. **

**Then I recently found the disc these letters were on, and after some tweaking and changing of timelines (the first letter was changed to reflect events in the 100th episode)**

**I decided to post them as a series. I intended this to be a place I can flesh out ideas that don't work into any of my current fics, and aren't really considered drabbles.**

**I hope you enjoy them, and I welcome any ideas or requests you might have for a letter...from Booth to Bones.**

**Thanks for reading! ~NatesMama**

**B&B**

Dear Bones,

Does it seem weird for me to be writing you like this? It does to me. But like everything else in our lives, weird works for us.

I was thinking the other day about that first trip we made as partners…to Washington State. The cannibal? That was gross, I have to admit. But the best part about that trip? Getting to see you so relaxed and comfortable, dancing in that bar. Sure, I could have done without all those locals pawing you, but at the time I was seeing someone and really….we were just getting to know each other again.

Yeah, again. We hadn't spoken in a year after that first case, and the difference in our interactions was astounding to me. When we first met, I was instantly attracted to you. The second I laid eyes on you, I swear. But the universe had other plans for us, and that fight…God, Bones, I have many regrets in my life, but that fight? Right near the top of the list. Maybe…if things had worked out differently…but then again, what fun would that have been? No wasted time, sure…but how do we even know if it would have worked out? Maybe it wouldn't have…and then what, we would be just another name on each other's list of former lovers? Damn sure, we wouldn't be anything close to what we are today.

And what we are today? It's everything.

Yours always,  
Booth


	2. Letter 2

Dear Bones,

You know, when I started this I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it. I thought for sure that you'd say I was being silly or overly romantic or just plain inefficient. But since I noticed my first letter in your jewelry box, looking well-read…I can't stop myself from writing you even more.

You might wonder why I haven't dated these letters, and that answer is simple. The things I tell you in these pages are constant. My thoughts about you and about our partnership are steadfast, and I want you to be able to pick any letter at any time (yes, I am going to continue to do this until you beg me to stop or you tree huggers make paper illegal) and know that whatever I was feeling on that day about you is the same way I feel about you always. I might sometimes be angry, hurt or confused about something that has happened between us, but those feelings…they never go away.

You're just going to have to believe me on that last part, Bones. Have a little faith, you know?

I know you know.

Yours always,  
Booth


	3. Letter 3

Dear Bones,

Have you ever had one of those days when you just want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head? No?

Fibber. I know you, Temperance Brennan. And I know you are just as capable of a lazy day as the rest of us mere mortals. Well, today it was my turn. Maybe it was the rotten weather, maybe it was the fact that it was Monday, maybe it was the warm body cuddled up against me…hard to tell. (I'm voting for whatever is behind door #3, though…) In any case, this was a rough day to wake up to. And I know you know what this kind of weather does to my feet, but today was particularly bad. Don't be angry that I downplayed the pain; I knew you could see it anyway, no matter what I said. But we soldier on, don't we? (Fitting turn of phrase, huh?) At least there were no suspects to chase today. Good thing, too. My partner is restricted to the lab. But you already knew that.

Heading off to bed…gonna see if that warm body wants to cuddle again.

Yours always,  
Booth


	4. Letter 4

Dear Bones,

I have to admit, I've been watching you walk for years. I know, sounds slightly creepy, but it's true. You walk with this hypnotic grace that I know most people miss...but I never do. All long limbs and slim neck and, well…nice bottom. Sorry, Bones. You really do have a great ass. The first few years of our partnership you wore those skin tight jeans that just about killed me. I'd watch you stride across that lab platform, and I was a total goner. I know Jack caught me ogling you more than once but hey…I'm a guy. And you're gorgeous. He understood.

I only mention this because I was watching you again…this time, in the kitchen. I can admit that I am the kind of a traditional guy that appreciates a woman who knows her way around the kitchen and actually enjoys it. You've come a long way since that mac and cheese, and I am more than happy to be the guinea pig for your cooking experiments. Always the scientist, right? The bolognese sauce you made for my birthday might be the one closest to my heart, but your coffee cake? Spectacular. It seems to me that everything you do, you do well. And I do mean everything.

But honestly…you're still my all-time favorite dish.

Yours always,  
Booth


	5. Letter 5

Dear Bones,

So today I was going through my desk and I found a set of note cards I'd thrown in there from back when we were working together. I don't know how long those had been in there because they were unused, but damn did they bring back memories. Do you remember when you first asked me why I carried the note cards and not a notebook? I told you, they were easier to organize than ripped-out notebook paper. I was surprised when you accepted my explanation without question. You usually don't do that. But you do love organization, so there's that.

I miss working with you, Bones. I'm not complaining about the why, because we both knew that when we started this thing they were going to break us up. I mean, I had hope that they would take our record into account, but deep down I knew the inevitable consequences. I'm glad that you didn't want to keep us a secret for the sake of our partnership, but sometimes…I imagine what we would have been like together as a couple during a case. I don't believe that anything would have been different. Because it would still be us. The best team the FBI ever had.

And now, we're still the best team…just with an expanded roster. And less danger. But always partners. And that will never, ever change.

Yours always,  
Booth


	6. Letter 6

Dear Bones,

What a day, huh? Who knew that when Cam finally got married she would actually go the whole traditional route? I sure as hell never saw it coming. But she did look beautiful, didn't she? Total happiness does that to you.

Which is why I know you're happy with me. Because every single day, your beauty takes my breath away.

I wanted to ask Angela if she missed having the big ceremony with Hodgins, but now that I think about it, the two of them getting married in jail? Perfect. It's just so them. And they might be almost as happy as we are. Almost.

But no one is as happy as we are. Bickering, sleeping, watching one of those boring documentaries you force on me, eating dinner, going to work, making love, challenging each other to another game of chess, playing in the park with the kids…it's all a part of the life we've built together, a life that's ours. And I think _that_ fits us perfectly.

Yours always,  
Booth


	7. Letter 7

Dear Bones,

You asked me today if I would still love you when you're old and grey. Of course, you knew it was a silly question, but I knew that you were fishing for a compliment because you're feeling unattractive. And nothing could be further from the truth.

You're breathtaking, Bones. Always have been, always will be.

Beauty is something that starts on the inside. And you? You're absolutely gorgeous inside, babe. Despite what you used to believe about yourself, you've always had a huge heart with an unending capacity for love and compassion and caring. Anyone who really knows you knows that you are loyal, dedicated and steadfast in your love for your family and friends. And I am both honored and humbled to be counted among those with whom you share that big, beautiful heart. I'll do everything in my power to make sure it stays intact.

And as for your outer beauty? Slim as a rail or eight months pregnant with my baby, you're undeniably the most captivating woman in the world. Don't ever doubt that. And to guarantee that you don't forget, I'll make sure to remind you every day.

Hey, Bones? You're beautiful, babe.

Yours always,  
Booth


	8. Letter 8

Dear Bones,

Watching Parker walk across that stage to get his high school diploma today made me feel about a hundred years old. I know, I'm not any older than any of the other dads, but still…that's my baby.

I remember when I first held him in the hospital. He was so, so tiny and so helpless. But it was almost as if he knew me instinctively, and until Lizzie and Jake came along I thought that I would never again find myself closer to God than I was at that moment. A true and honest miracle on Earth, right there in my arms. The thought still takes my breath away.

But they can't stay that small forever, and today that reality really hit home for me. I know that we always have pictures and journals and notes to remember all the milestones in our children's lives, but I don't need all that. I can see those moments clearly in my mind, every time one of them calls me Daddy or wants a hug or just wants to talk. When they need me as much as I need them.

Have I thanked you lately for those wonderful gifts? Well, I should. I should thank you every day.

So…thank you, Bones. I adore my children, and I adore you all the more for giving them to me.

Yours always,  
Booth


	9. Letter 9

Dear Bones,

I'm not sure what initially inspired me to write these letters, but now….today? I'm glad I started this. I need to organize my thoughts about that news I got today, and this way is very soothing to me. It's like talking to you while you're sleeping next to me, but you're hearing every word. Too romantic? Ah, well. You should be used to that by now.

I've told you more details about what happened when my dad was drinking than I've ever shared with anyone else, ever. Partially because I trust you more than I've ever believed it was possible to trust, but also because I know you'll never judge…never think less of me because of where I came from. Just another blessing in my life courtesy of Temperance Brennan.

Anyway, finding out that he's gone? I've tried to think of how I feel and put it into words…but I just can't, Bones. It's not relief, it's not sadness, and it's not even disinterest. It's just…I don't know. But I do know that I am grateful that you are here beside me whether I choose to talk about it or decide that I can't.

Maybe someday I'll understand what I'm feeling today. Until then, I know you know this but I love you, Bones. Thank you for listening.

Yours always,  
Booth


	10. Letter 10

Dear Bones,

What a day. I'm exhausted. And yes, I can picture you rolling your eyes at that because you were the one who did all the work, but still…it's a good tired.

That day seven months ago when Angela sidled up to me in the lab and said that you had something to tell me, I have to say that never saw this coming. You hadn't even told her yet, she just knew. (How _does_ she do that, anyway?) But I found out soon enough, and she wasn't kidding…it was definitely something.

I know that you were scared, but still excited. And it was so much fun for me to watch you transform before my eyes into what you are, officially, today. Someone's mom. Our child's mother. It's pretty damn awesome, Bones. I'm so proud of you, you're amazing. I never thought any day would equal the one when Parker was born, or when you decided to tell me that you had changed your mind about you and me. But this might just be it.

It sounds like our girl is getting fussy, so I'm going to go pick her up and give her some attention from her daddy. And if I forget to say it later, I'll say it now.

Thank you, Bones. Thank you so, so much.

Yours always,  
Booth


	11. Letter 11

Dear Bones,

I've been watching you, sitting in this waiting room for word about Angela, and I wonder if you have any idea how much you have changed in the last ten years. Sure, you've always had this capacity for caring and compassion, but seeing the way you comforted Jack? It staggers me sometimes, how far you've come.

I don't mean that to sound patronizing, I really don't. You once said that you were incapable of change, but by then you had already changed so much from the woman I first saw standing in that lecture hall that it took my breath away how little you recognized it in yourself.

Even after that first fight we had, I liked you. I might not have always shown it, probably because it scared the hell out of me how much I liked you…but I always did. Even when I wanted to strangle you because you'd frustrated me or tried to embarrass me or just plain pissed me off. I liked you. I still like you. A lot of the time I think that's more important than the fact that I love you.

It's a little later and everyone has gone home except for us and Jack. It's a good thing that Angela pulled through with a lot of color, because I think any other outcome would have destroyed us all. And while it scares the hell out of me how intertwined we all are in each other's lives and happiness…I wouldn't have it any other way.

Our life is good, Bones. Even on the bad days. Always remember that.

Always yours,  
Booth

**A/N: Because I know someone will ask, no...I don't know why Angela was in the hospital. I wrote the letter as if Booth were really writing it, and he wouldn't rehash what Brennan already knows unless there was a reason...and for the purposes of this letter, there wasn't a reason. :)**


	12. Letter 12

Dear Bones,

When I woke up and rolled over to kiss you good morning, it started me thinking about the first morning I was allowed to do that. I'm sure you remember…I hope you do.

I was so scared, that first time. I mean, I know you'd said you loved me…but we'd both been running from each other for so long that I was certain you were going to panic on me and take off as soon as you realized what had happened. But, as always, you surprised me. You opened your eyes, gave me that sexy little smile that sets me on fire, and offered to make me breakfast. I couldn't have scripted a better first morning after. My last first morning after…and it was perfect. And I just thought you should know that.

You knock my socks off, baby. And don't even say it…I know you know what that means.

Always yours,  
Booth


	13. Letter 13

Dear Bones,

I want to be able to talk to you about this fight we're having, but since you won't let me open the bedroom door…I guess we'll have it out on paper.

What really hurts me, Bones, isn't that you're mad at me for even bringing up marriage. What bothers me is that you think so little of me, of what I think of you, that you equate my wanting to make you my wife to me wanting to enslave you.

Now here is where I wait while you think about what I just said, and realize that you don't actually think that about me, but that you're scared and lashing out.

All caught up now, Bones? Good. Because aside from all the legal advantages of being married (and it would make life easier for Lizzy) there is something I find incredibly sexy about being able to show everyone that you are mine. And no, not "mine", as in a possession. Mine as in…you are my heart. You own my heart. And no one else in this world will ever be as important to me. No one, Bones. Believe that. Because it is entirely possible to possess someone without owning them.

I should know, because I am yours, and I always will be. So come out of the bedroom, Bones. And let's discuss this rationally. I love you.

Always yours,  
Booth


	14. Letter 14

Dear Bones,

Nothing special happened today. Just another day, a lot of paperwork, a couple of chats about the Phils in the coffee room, chasing down leads on some cold cases….boring.

But I like writing these letters to you, even if there's nothing special going on except that I was thinking of you. I do that a lot, you know. Think of you at random times throughout the day. Sometimes it's something simple, like I remember the way you take your coffee while I'm making mine. Or when I'm signing paperwork, I think of how much more neat the forms would be if you'd filled them out. Just little things that remind me how dug in we are in each other's lives. I know it's only been a few months since we started dating, but it feels like we've always been like this…just without the added bonus of seeing each other naked.

And I have to say…even on the days I'm bored, you make me smile. And you're not even in the building. That's what convinces me that we're doing the right thing. And I know you feel the same way.

Guess I'll sneak out of here and pop over to the lab. I need my Bones fix for the day.

Yours Always,  
Booth


	15. Letter 15

****Slight spoilers for Season Six****

Dear Bones,

I miss you. There, got that out of the way. And just so you know…the fifteen other letters I'll be writing for you while you're in Egypt will all start the exact same way as this one. Because you've only been gone for twelve hours and I miss you something fierce already. No telling how crazy I'll be by day six.

I took Parker to see that new Disney movie today. He didn't seem to enjoy it like he used to. I think he's getting too old for them, which of course makes grey hair sprout up all over my head. But I'll get through it…eventually. Is it wrong to want to keep him ten years old for the rest of his life? Yeah? Okay.

But I don't have to like it.

I miss you, Bones. (Did I mention that yet?) But hopefully you're digging up some ancient Egyptian pharaoh no one ever knew about and they'll have to name a pyramid after you or something. Anything to make the trip worthwhile for you. I know Indonesia didn't pan out the way you planned, so I hope this one makes up for that.

Fifteen more days, Bones. I'll be there at the airport, waiting. Stay safe.

Always yours,  
Booth

PS. I miss you!


	16. Letter 16

Dear Bones,

Okay, so my experiment didn't go so well. Hey, who knew that the ice cube would make you jump like that? And I sure didn't predict that you would fly off the bed like a Mexican jumping bean…honest. But you have admit…after your wrist heals this will be really, really funny.

Okay, maybe not.

I am sorry, Bones. I was just trying to show you that I'm really not a prude. I can be very sexually adventurous. I mean, come on…we have had sex in both our offices…the gun range, the Cherry Blossom Festival, Jared's bathroom…well, that one was a bad idea, but still…Seeley Booth is not uptight about sex. I think I've proven that.

But I do have a feeling I'm not going to be getting any for awhile. Right? Yeah, thought so.

Love you, Bones!

Yours always,  
Booth


	17. Letter 17

Dear Bones,

Do you think that when you go out to the cemetery tomorrow to put flowers on your parents' graves you could tell them something from me? Please?

Tell them that I am grateful to them for how you turned out. Yes, they left you when you were just becoming the woman you were destined to be, but I think…no, I know that you wouldn't be half as strong, determined and loving any other way. I'm not sure what that says about me, but I am not ashamed to say that I love the woman you became on your own, and I refuse to apologize for that.

So sit down and have a talk with them, Bones. Tell them about Lizzie, your work in the Sudan, your big discovery in Egypt; heck…you can even talk me up a bit. But just talk to them…let them know that you're thinking of them and that you're grateful for their place in your life…then, and now.

Because you are the fantastic woman you are right now because of where you came from…and you should always be thankful for that, no matter what.

Say hey to Max for me.

Yours always,  
Booth


	18. Letter 18

Dear Bones,

Last night was fun, wasn't it? We haven't had a really good New Year's Eve party in years and I'm glad we did it. You, of course, looked beautiful. I was extremely handsome. The kids had a great time and I think everyone enjoyed the idea of midnight bowling. I thought maybe we were all getting old when even Cam and Paul said it sounded like fun, but with all the kids we've got running around, I suppose it was time to adjust our idea of a good time. And believe me, I am not complaining.

I don't trust that Hodgins kid around Lizzie, though. I don't care if they're only five and six. I've got my eye on him. He's shifty, like his dad.

I'm sorry you didn't get your kiss at midnight like I'd planned, but when Sweets decided that projectile vomiting every single beer he drank was a good way to ring in the New Year, my focus was a little split. That poor kid is going to be so hung over today. Serves him right, those were my favorite bowling shoes.

In any case, what I wanted to say was that I'm glad you're my partner, and I'm thrilled that we've got our little family to help us make this new year the best year yet. Just like last year. And just like next year. Just like always.

I adore you, Bones. Now and for all the years to come.

Yours always,  
Booth


	19. Letter 19

Dear Bones,

Here's something I'll bet you didn't know: I find the curve of your neck right behind your ear to be the sexiest part of your body. I do. Yes, you have a beautiful face and great legs and a spectacular rear end, but that pale slope of skin with a slight dusting of hair? Dear God, Bones…nothing sexier. Why do you think I always ask you to wear your hair up when we go out? Its torture for me, but it's the best kind of torture.

I bring this up because I heard you on the phone talking to Ang about cutting all your hair off for the summer. I'm begging you…please don't. Aside from the fact that I love your hair, to have that expanse of skin bared all the time? Woman, I would never survive it. It's all I can do to hold myself back from jumping you right now…and I'm only _thinking_ about it. I'm not kidding.

So please…if you love me, leave your hair the way it is, or we might never leave the bedroom.

Always yours,  
Booth


	20. Letter 20

Dear Bones,

I want to state for the record that Jack Hodgins is an ass. When you hear about the bachelor party (and you will, you always do) bear in mind that Hodgins set it up, not me. In fact, I wasn't even in the room when most of the bad stuff went down; I was holding Sweets' head over the john. (What is it with that kid and drinking anyway? He's officially cut off forever.) But Jared gave me the rundown, and it got pretty debauched, apparently.

In any case, you know that's not my style. What I can't figure out is how Jack knew about Strawberry Lust? You didn't tell him, did you? Because I know I sure as hell didn't. Maybe it was just blind, stupid luck. I just wish she hadn't remembered me. That was embarrassing. Max still hasn't let up about it; he even sent me an email this morning. Your dad is a mean man, Bones.

Okay…time to get that tux fitted. Still can't believe we're doing this…my mind is officially blown. Don't pinch me, because if I'm dreaming I don't want to wake up.

Whoa. That was really, really cheesy.

But the sentiment stands. And I love you, Bones. (Mrs. Seeley Booth? Dr. Temperance Booth? Brennan-Booth? Ah, hell…I don't care as long as you show up at the altar.)

Yours always,  
Booth


	21. Letter 21

Dear Bones,

I just peeked in on you in the bedroom, CD's everywhere, laptop open to all kinds of music sites…wow, you really took Angela's question to heart, didn't you?

Babe, we don't really need a "song" for the reception, honestly. I mean…not everyone has a song that means something to them, although I was a little disappointed when you vetoed Hot Blooded for our first dance. I know…not very romantic, anthropologically. (This is where I roll my eyes at you in a very loving way…)

Tell you what, Bones…if you really want to know how I feel about you, go look up a singer named Bryan Adams. He wrote a song back in 1991 that explains _everything_ exactly. It's cheesy and you'll hate it…but it really says it all.

Just a suggestion….

Love Always,  
Booth


	22. Letter 22

Dear Bones,

So I am sitting on the balcony of this very expensive hotel, looking out over a very white beach that is next to very, very blue water highlighted by one of the most gorgeous sunsets I've ever seen…and I can't seem to pry my eyes away from the sight inside the room behind me. A beautiful, gloriously naked woman lying on my bed, sheets just covering her fantastic rear end, long dark hair spilling out over my pillow…diamond and gold, shining on her left hand.

I know it's not my usual style, but I can't help but wax poetic when I look at my wife sleeping contentedly after we've spent the entire day making love on our honeymoon. I have to say, Bones…I honestly never thought I would see the day when you would actually agree to this whole married-with-children thing. Not that I'm complaining…hell no.

But that you had enough faith in me to take that leap and know I'd be there to catch you? That humbles me like I can't even explain…there just aren't any words. Well, there might be but I can't seem to find them.

All I know is that I am the luckiest mook in the world that you chose to spend your life with me. And I'll do everything I can to make sure that you're never sorry for that choice.

I love you, Mrs. Booth.

Yours Always,  
Booth


	23. Letter 23

Dear Bones,

I am an extremely patient man. You, of all the people in the universe, should know that. But sometimes you really, really get on my nerves, Temperance.

I'm not trying to be mean or upset you, but we've always said that after all the misunderstandings and deflecting and outright lies we told each other about our relationship, that we would be completely honest from now on…right? So watching you flirt with another man, whether you were doing it on purpose or not, really pisses me off. I know that you don't do things like that to hurt me, but you should know by now that even mild flirting drives me insane.

I've told you before how damn insecure I sometimes feel about this relationship, maybe even more insecure than you are. But after almost a year I've started to really get comfortable, and then something like this happens.

Look, I know you didn't mean anything by it, and I know that I've done things to upset you as well. But I also think it's healthy for us to get these things out in the open, so we can get over them, learn from them and move on. In fact, as of now I'm not even mad anymore. I might even tear this letter up and throw it out.

But that would defeat the purpose of these letters, wouldn't it? I want you to know what I'm thinking about you, no matter what. The good, the bad and the not-too-ugly. It helps us both, I think. Don't you?

Because in the end, no matter what happens, no matter what is said or done, I love you. Always have, always will.

Yours always,  
Booth


	24. Letter 24

Dear Bones,

Yesterday was one of those days that I wish I could just forget. It started out nice enough, beautiful weather, no specific weekend plans, nothing pressing on our time except deciding what's for lunch and which Disney movie Lizzie would pick to watch before bedtime.

So much for the best laid non-plans, huh?

If you would have told me a year ago, when we were dancing at their wedding, that Paul had been smacking Cam around for years and that she would have to practically blow his head off defending herself one last time, I would have told you you were crazy. Certifiable. They looked so happy, so content. And she never gave anything away. Our strong, self-reliant Cam…trapped in that hell for much too long. And what absolutely kills me is that she felt she couldn't come to us for help. Does that haunt you, too? I wonder what could have been if one of us had just picked up on something…anything. I know Angela is just as upset with herself as I am of myself…we're supposed to be the intuitive ones, you know? But Cam deserves an Oscar for the role she's pulled off for the last four years. No one knew, not even Michelle.

My biggest regret is that I didn't get to pull the trigger myself. Anything to spare her from the nightmares she'll have to bear from now on. Now I don't know what to do to help her, except be there.

This time, I'm afraid that's just not going to be enough.

Sorry about the tone of this letter, babe…but I am still wrapping my head around it all, and you're a good listener. Thank you…

Yours always,  
Booth


	25. Letter 25

Dear Bones,

So I think I am really liking this uncle thing. Padme and Jared make good looking babies, don't they? Salaam is a beautiful boy and a lot like his dad when he was little. Very easy going and fun to be around.

I don't talk a lot about how things were at home when I was young before it all went to hell, but that's mostly because I don't remember much. I remember Jared being angry because he wanted to sleep with me and hated having his own bed, but there are really only fleeting glances at those memories floating around my head…nothing tangible. My mom's pancakes, getting pizza delivered as a celebration because she had sold a jingle, the smell of clean laundry fresh off the line…little snippets I try to string together to bridge my childhood from that perfect time to bypass the bad completely. Sometimes it even works.

I bring all this up because Jar and I went to the cemetery with Lizzie and Salaam to visit Pops. It kills me that he wasn't around for the babies, but he did get to meet Parker, and I know that gave him a lot of joy. And I know he would be thrilled about the new baby, almost as happy as I am. I never imagined we'd have one, let alone two…and when you said you wanted at least one more? Well, I've never really been able to deny you anything, Bones. And more babies? You can have all you want, babe. I am all in.

Only betting on us and our family never feels like a gamble. Because I know that you, love of my life, are a sure thing.

Yours always,  
Booth


	26. Letter 26

Dear Bones,

Was that party last night a little weird to you? It was to me. I mean, aside from the fact that it was the first Jeffersonian function since we got married and everyone wanted to talk about that, there was the whole 'running into your ex-boyfriend' thing.

And like I told you, I didn't know Sully was back in town. Believe me; if I had I would have warned you. Although you handled yourself pretty damn well, if you ask me. I told you that he once asked me if I had the hots for you, so the fact that he wasn't surprised we were married shouldn't have surprised you. The look on his face when he saw your rings and you told him who you were married to, though? I wish I'd seen it. I'm alpha male enough to enjoy the jealous look on other men's faces when they find out you're taken…and that you're mine. Sorry, Bones. I just can't help it.

Either way, it was nice to see him. He is a good guy, and he treated you well. He may have even loved you, I don't know. I don't even know if he knows. If he did love you, then he was the biggest moron to ever walk the earth. I mean, seriously…what kind of a man has Temperance Brennan and then up and leaves her? That's crazy.

I know it drives you up the wall when I talk about you like some idealized version of the perfect woman, but in my humble opinion you _are_ the perfect woman. Perfect for me, anyway. And I won't apologize for singing your praises. So there.

Anyway, quit standing on the balcony and thinking too hard and come to bed. Maybe I can think of something to do to help you sleep.

Love you, babe.

Yours always,  
Booth


	27. Letter 27

****Contains Season Six Spoilers****

Dear Bones,

Well, today we've been officially dating for a month. Does knowing that make me a girl? You know what, I don't care. We've both been dancing around this for so long; I think I can be forgiven for being a little giddy about the whole situation.

When we agreed to meet at the coffee cart before we left for our trips last year, I honestly believed that all we would ever be from then on was friends. Good friends, best friends even. But nothing more. So making the plans to meet was my way of making sure that we stayed at least they close. I never dreamed that we would have to come back early, never imagined I'd meet someone else…but none of that matters now. I appreciate it all because it had to happen that way, no matter how painful some of it turned out to be. I can't regret anything that eventually got us to this place. Everything happens for a reason, I really believe that.

Okay, I need to go get ready for our big date. I know you think it's kind of silly, but I love that you're indulging me anyway. It tells me that you care about me, and that means everything.

I have something to tell you tonight, Bones. Something I should have said a long time ago. I hope you're really ready for it. I know I am. It's about time.

Yours always,  
Booth


	28. Letter 28

Dear Bones,

I hate it when you're sick. I mean, obviously I don't like when you're not at your very best all the time, but when you're not feeling well? It kills me.

It's probably because you don't like to be taken care of like I want to take care of you. You know what a baby I am when I'm sick (yes, I can admit that…), so the fact that you want me to just leave you alone to suffer in peace is something I'll never understand. I want to be able to bring you soup or rub your back or just check up on you…I'm not sure if it's the dad or the alpha male in me, but either or both, the result is the same.

Okay, I'll quit staring at the bedroom door, waiting for you to come out. I'll put some tea on and leave it outside the door so when you're ready, it'll be there.

Feel better soon, babe.

Yours always,  
Booth


	29. Letter 29

Dear Bones,

You know I don't write about this very often, but last night…baby, that was spectacular. Maybe it was something in the air, I don't know. But I do know that I have never had a night like that. Ever.

Of course, I've never been in love like this, either.

I mean, we already have a spectacular sex life. How can we not, we had almost seven years of foreplay to get us prepared. And we've been pretty creative as far as that goes; it's nice that you're pretty much up for anything. I love that about you.

But last night? Oh, Bones…wow. It was like our first time all over again. Passionate, intense, loving, hot, sweaty, spicy and just…I have no other words. I've told you that one of my favorite sights in the world is you on top of me, that hair cascading down your back…God, there is nothing sexier. And that thing you do with your tongue? Pretty sure that should be illegal but damn glad it isn't.

My point is that no matter how long we're together my passion for you will never change. My turning 60 has no bearing on how I feel for you. I will always be hot for you, whatever our ages.

I've said this a million times before, but it bears repeating. You, my wife, are smokin' hot.

Always yours,  
Booth


	30. Letter 30

Dear Bones,

So, eighteen years ago I held a little bundle in my arms and promised him that I would do everything in my power to make sure that he would never want for anything, especially love. And I meant every word, still do. Which is why I am so angry at myself today.

I know…Jake is everything you want your child to be. He's smart, well-mannered, and kind. He's athletic, good with people, and funny…damn, that kid cracks me up. So why do I feel as if I've failed him? Yes, I can hear you saying that I'm being irrational, that he was born with his sexual preference, and I agree. I am being irrational, but I can't help it. Maybe it's a male pride thing, I don't know.

Do I think he's somehow defective? God, no. He's perfect, he really is. And even though I might wish for an easier road for him in life, I do pray that he finds someone who appreciates everything he is and supports and loves him unconditionally, no matter who that is. Because I know what it's like to have that kind of acceptance and love in my life, thanks to his mother, and it would break my heart to think that he might miss out.

I hate to think that I was the reason Jake was so scared to tell us, because I like to hope that I've had a hand in making sure he knows that part of being a complete human being is accepting those who are different than you are…that different isn't worse, or better. It just is.

Maybe I just needed to write this all down, because I suddenly feel much better. We have a fantastic son, Bones. And now we can add brave and strong to the never ending list of wonderful qualities he has inherited from his mom.

And I couldn't be prouder.

Yours always,  
Booth


	31. Letter 31

Dear Bones,

Okay, here's the thing. You know that you and Parker are the two most important people in my life, right? I know you know that, so what happened today when I took Parker home kind of blew my mind a little bit.

You were worried about how Parker would feel about us dating. Don't deny it, I know you. But I have to say, the day went really well. I think kids like it when you speak to them as if they're small adults…no pretense, no sugar coating, no little white lies. You're genuine, and children are attracted to that. And believe me, my kid is no exception.

Anyway, on the way home Parker had a lot of questions about us. I tried to answer them the best way I knew how, but sometimes his brain works so fast I have a hard time keeping up with him. He wanted to know if you were my girlfriend (yes!), if my new job was going to be as fun as my old one (no), and if you were going to sleep over when he was there (God, I hope so). He's eleven, and his wants are pretty simple, but he wants you around. He said that you were "fun without just acting like you were having fun". I know that sounds awkward, but I know what he meant. A lot of the time, adults can overdo it in the reaction department when they're interacting with kids, and Parker sees that you don't do that. When you were confused about the point of the video game he was showing you, you didn't pretend to understand and when you finally got the hang of it, your joy was genuine. And he recognized that.

Kids like honesty, being treated like a person, and knowing that they're loved. And since I know no one better at any of those things, you're like a child's dream come true. Kids love you. My kid loves you.

And oh yeah…I love you, too. You were great today. Thank you.

Yours always,  
Booth


	32. Letter 32

Dear Bones,

I'm sitting here looking at your engagement ring. Hopefully, once I give you this letter, I will have already given you the ring…but if I chickened out, you officially have my permission to kick my ass. I have two responses ready for this letter, depending on how this thing goes:

Response #1:

I can't say that I'm surprised that you said no to my proposal. I am a little hurt, but I knew what I was getting into when I asked, so you have nothing to feel guilty about. If I pushed you at all when you turned me down, consider this my apology in advance. I know you know that I respect you as an individual and as a woman, so I hope that you didn't turn me down for something silly like that. Either way, I still love you and you're the best thing that ever happened to me.

Response #2:

I can't believe you actually agreed to be my wife. I still can't believe that you chose me, so this news is just knocking me for a loop. You're going to be my wife. I'm going to be your husband. Wow. It's going to take me a little while to wrap my head around it…probably only 40 or 50 years or so. Either way, I love you and you're the best thing that ever happened to me.

So…depending on which of these responses was the right one, I'm either curled up in bed with you right now or sleeping on the couch. I hope it's the bed….but either way, I still love you and you're the best thing that ever happened to me.

Did I mention that I love you? Cause I do.

Yours always,  
Booth


	33. Letter 33

Dear Bones,

I'm probably going to have a series of letters here for you when you're feeling better. This one is first and will probably be the longest, because you're still sleeping off the anesthesia, and it will keep me from going crazy.

I've been thinking about what I was feeling in those moments when the police called me to say you'd been in a car accident. It's one of those things that happen to other people, you know? It's never someone you love. Til now, anyway.

The sheer panic and desperation I felt on the way to the hospital was like nothing I'd ever felt. I mean, I knew something similar when you and Jack were being held by Taffett, but now…I don't know, it's different. Maybe because I just seemed to know back then that you would be fine. And this time, I didn't. All I knew was that you were hurt badly and in need of surgery. Thank God for Cam, who was there ten minutes after I was. She managed to get the medical mumbo-jumbo dumbed down for me, and didn't make me any more freaked out than I already was. I owe that woman a couple of drinks.

Anyway…you're going to be fine. At least, that's what the surgeon said. It's going to take some time and a lot of physical therapy for your leg to heal, but you'll still be here with me, and that's the most important thing in the world to me right now.

Bones heal, stitches come out, scars fade…but losing you? I'd never be the same again. I'm glad you stayed.

Welcome back, Bones.

Yours always,  
Booth


	34. Letter 34

Dear Bones,

I know you don't really want to talk about this, but I think we have to. I know we haven't been sharing a bed for that long, but I can't believe that the nightmares you've been waking up with lately are new.

Look, you might think that something like this is a sign of weakness, but it's really not. Everyone has nightmares, it makes you human. Your brain is so busy during the day processing all your experiences, that at night when you're asleep…it needs to sort through everything. Even the things from the past.

The reason I know this is that I have them too, Bones. Some are small…Parker falling off his bike and getting a broken arm, not being able to solve a bad case, getting into a fight with you…things I just need to purge from my head so that I don't constantly worry about them.

And then there are some…some of them are downright terrifying. The kind that makes you sit up in bed afterwards, sweating and panting and completely confused about where you are and who you are. I know all about those, and that special kind of hell they create where you can find yourself fighting your way out of your own head. They're the worst.

But the thing to remember is that as bad as the nightmares can be, they aren't reality. Reality is you and me, solving cases and making the world just a little bit safer. You and me, having lunch at the diner and you giving me a hard time about my cholesterol every time I eat a burger. You and me, taking a long weekend and heading to the shore in Delaware to walk on the beach, eat fresh seafood by candlelight and stay in bed making love half the day.

You see the common thread here? You and me. Because in the end, there's nothing that we can't get through if we just stick together. I'm always going to be there for you, Bones. You just have to let me in.

So talk to me, babe. Whenever you're ready, I'm always listening.

Yours always,  
Booth


	35. Letter 35

Dear Bones,

I've always kind of wondered when it was that you first realized that you were attracted to me. Not in the "I want your body" kind of a way, but the "I want to wake up every morning next to this person" kind of way. I can tell you when I realized that about you. And it's not when you think it was.

Let me start with when I first suspected, and finish with when I knew. Do you remember when you told me about Sully asking you to sail away with him for a year? I told you that we lived a very narrow life, and that he was offering you a way of life that was much wider, and I thought you should go if that made you happy. As much as I cared for you, I've always wanted you to be happy. You didn't go, but there was a split second there, when I was standing on that dock watching you say goodbye to him, that I thought you were actually going to go. The panic I felt in that few seconds almost knocked me on my ass, but not as much as the relief that filled me when I realized you were staying. That's when I had some idea of how much I needed you.

Then, a few years later, I was all alone on a ship in the middle of the ocean trying my damndest to get out alive. But all the while I knew that you were somewhere on the outside fighting to find me and get to me. You remember what we said when you and Hodgins escaped from that car? It was true, you know. I knew you wouldn't give up. I knew it, in my heart and soul. But that wasn't the moment, exactly. It was when I recognized the rumble of that helicopter over head, whipping the wind loudly around me, and all I could hear over all that noise and confusion was you screaming my name, sounding desperate and panicked and relieved all at once. I could hear in your voice that you needed me to stay as much as I had needed you to stay all those years before. And that was it. It was like flipping a switch. I was done.

And yes, since then we've had missteps and obstacles and roadblocks…most of our own making. But in the end, it all comes down to that moment…the one where you _completely_ know_._ Its cliché, but it really is like a light bulb going off in your head. And it's a revelation like no other. One I'll certainly never forget.

You can tell me about your moment some other time, I can wait. I just needed you to know mine, because in the end that's what it's all about. Moments where we find out something extraordinary about ourselves that we didn't know before and those moments end up completely changing our lives.

Because that's what you did, Bones. You changed my life. And I'll never be able to thank you enough for that.

Yours always,  
Booth


	36. Letter 36

**A/N: My son starts school this coming Wednesday and I'm feeling a little sad for me but also pretty excited for him. Guess my real life is influencing Booth and Brennan. Aren't they lucky? **

Dear Bones,

So our girl survived her first day of school, huh? I knew she would be great, but I could tell you were worried. Luckily for us and her, she's got a nice balance of both of us, which I love. She ought to be running that place by the end of the year.

And don't think I didn't see those tears in your eyes, Bones. Hell, I had a few myself. Nothing to be ashamed of, it's a little sad to see your babies growing up. But grow up they do, and we can only pray (okay, I'll pray) that they've taken our advice to heart and learned how to use it to be the best people they can be. And I think Lizzie has done that, and that she'll be just fine.

She's a wonderful girl, a lot like her mother. It still floors me to see a tiny little version of you with my eyes walking around, saying cute things that make me laugh and reading text books like they're Dr. Seuss. And the best thing? I like her. I like her a lot. She's one of my favorite people to hang out with. And now the rest of the world gets to discover just how amazing she is.

But those boys better not find out for another twenty years or so. I'm just not ready for that yet.

You've done a great job, Mom. Be proud of your girl, I know I am. Of both my girls.

Yours always,  
Booth


	37. Letter 37

Dear Bones,

Let's just get this out of the way right off the bat. I'm an ass and I'm sorry. I don't even have an excuse, because there really isn't one good enough for how badly I talked to you.

Look, I know I can be a real jerk sometimes. I know, and I try not to be. And when I say something about your lack of pop culture knowledge, I say it with the unspoken caveat that you understand I am joking.

Wanna know why?

Because I happen to find it incredibly hot that you don't have a clue who Kim Kardashian is. Frankly, no one really needs to know who Kim Kardashian is, and the fact that you don't? I love that about you. I think it's fantastic that you choose to fill that big, beautiful brain of yours with worthwhile information and not irrelevant trivia.

But here's the thing, Bones…all that information you have rolling around in there? Kinda intimidating for those of us with regular IQ's. And no, that is not your fault. But I have to admit that when I know something you don't, and you get that cute, wrinkled-forehead look on your face and you say "I don't know what that means."…completely turns me on.

Weird, I know. But honestly…would you have me any other way?

So please, accept my apology. I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings and I promise to try to never do it again. Because the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.

I love you, genius.

Yours always,  
Booth


	38. Letter 38

Dear Bones,

While I was lying here in this hospital bed earlier, listening to you speak to Dr. Jursik with that clipped, professional voice, I wondered what role you would be playing in this whole mess if we weren't involved personally.

After some thought, I realized that you wouldn't be acting any different no matter what our situation was. Last time they found a tumor, you were right by my side the whole time, just like I knew you would be. Just like you were from the beginning of our partnership.

I know you view our early days differently than I do, that I did more for you than you ever did for me but that is so far from true it's almost funny. After we fought that first time, I did a lot of soul searching about the kind of man I was and how different that man was from the one I wanted to be, and I believe that how you viewed me helped that perspective become clear to me. It brought into sharp focus what I needed to do to become that man my grandfather hoped I would be, and I need to thank you for that.

Its amazing how a single meeting, a short moment in your life can change everything and a lot of the time you never even know it. Sometimes it's something as simple as getting caught in traffic long enough to avoid an accident you otherwise would have been involved in, other times it's taking a friend's advice and asking a world renowned forensic anthropologist to help you on a stalled case and ending up finding the love of your life.

I know you still don't believe in fate, but I still do. And no matter what you say, no matter what empirical evidence you try to throw my way, I know that we were meant to be together. Whether we ever got to this point where we could both admit how we felt, admit how much we love each other, we were still supposed to find each other…and I couldn't be more grateful. Whatever the outcome.

So quit looking at me with that worried face and wrinkled forehead and come here and kiss me. Everything will be alright, because you're here and really, Bones…that's all I ever need.

Yours always,  
Booth


	39. Letter 39

Dear Bones,

Here's something I noticed about you the other day that you've been hiding from me: you love hockey. You do, I saw it. At Parker's game, you were following the action, and really getting into it. That's nothing new, you've always shown a genuine interest in whatever he's doing, and I've always loved that. But this was something else entirely. I couldn't put my finger on it until a couple weeks later.

I finally put it all together while we were watching the Flyers game the other night. I think it took me awhile because normally I am completely involved in the game, but something about what you were wearing kept distracting me, and I was checking you out for most of the second period. And you, Temperance Brennan, were fully enjoying the action on the ice.

Your eyes were glazed, you kept making noises (sort of like the ones you make right before you…well, let's just say you make the same noise when you're really, really happy) when the Flyers got the puck anywhere close to the net, and you hissed in sympathy when Chris Therien was boarded by that schmuck Ovechkin late in the third. You were loving it, baby. You can't deny it.

You, my rational, empirical, calm, cool and collected scientist wife, are a hockey junkie.

And I can't think of anything that I find hotter.

Yours always,  
Booth


	40. Letter 40

Dear Bones,

You know, for someone who didn't used to like family-centric holidays, you sure have embraced the concept of Thanksgiving dinner. You really went all out for the day, and you completely pulled it off.

I was a little wary, having absolutely everyone we know and are related to in one place, but we sure got lucky. Between Max and Jared arguing over college football, Angela and Margaret actually bonding over their new babies, Parker and Russ's girls pretty much kicking everyone's butt on the Wii, and the food that you, Amy and Padme put on…it really was perfect, Bones. I couldn't have asked for a better holiday with all the people I love…even Margaret's husband. Gary is one weird guy, but he seems nice enough. What was with those octagonal glasses, though?

And how about Sweets and Daisy? I figured if there was going to be any drama it would come from Pops and Hodgins getting into another dominoes argument caused by one or both of them cheating…again. But to have the Awesomely Happy Twins get into a screaming match right after pie was served? Wow. It was better than live theater. I seriously thought Daisy was going to clock him one. Honestly, we gotta keep him away from the booze, babe.

But my favorite part, by far, was when you let me announce that you're making me a dad again. Parker was so damn excited, and I swear I saw tears in Pop's and Max's eyes. I know they couldn't be any happier than I am, but I think it might be close.

I've said it before but it still rings true, you're going to be an amazing mom, Bones. And I am so honored that you chose me to share it with. I do hope that you'll forgive my impending-fatherhood-induced extra-crazy alpha male tendencies for awhile, though. I had the easy (and incredibly fun) part, and now it's all on you, so I need to be there to help you through it all. The swollen ankles, the doctor's appointments, the cravings, the excitement when the baby moves for the first time, the hopes…the fears…all of it. I want to be there for every precious moment.

God, Bones…we're going to be parents. How unbelievable is that? I am the luckiest guy on the planet.

And I love you madly. Thank you for doing this, Bones.

Yours always,  
Booth


	41. Letter 41

Dear Bones,

I've been sitting here in this recliner all day, contemplating our place in the universe.

Okay, I've really been sitting here watching football all day, but that didn't sound like the best use of my time. Being laid up with this bad knee is really starting to drive me crazy. And yes, you can go ahead and tell me again why I am way too old to have been playing a pick up football game with Parker and his friends, but considering the fact that I was able to keep up with them until the knee gave out, I refuse to listen. I'm only fifty, Bones. I'm not dead.

But I have been thinking about where you and I are at in our lives, if not in the universe. Next month, we'll have been married for six years, a couple for ten years and partners for sixteen years. Sixteen years, Bones. That blows me away, it really does. Where would we both be if you hadn't agreed to help me with the Cleo Eller case? Would you have agreed sometime in the future? Would that have any impact on where we are now? Would it have taken us even longer to acknowledge what we are to each other, or would it have shortened that time? We'll never know, of course…but it's fun to wonder.

In any case, you've probably noticed by now that this letter came with airline tickets. Spain, Portugal and France for three weeks. Just you and me. Lizzie and Jake are staying with the Hodgins', it's already arranged.

Now…why those three countries? You might not remember, but the night you had Lizzie, you were nursing her for the first time and I stepped out to call a few more people with the news of her birth. When I was done, I started to open the door to your room when I heard you talking to her. You were telling her all your hopes and dreams for her, about being a strong independent woman, about doing all the things you never had…which included being sorry that you hadn't visited Spain, Portugal and France as a tourist…only for work. You told our girl that one of your goals was to go back so that you could properly appreciate such beautiful countries.

Well, it's taken almost nine years, but I can finally take you to those places myself and we can appreciate them together. I've been to France, but never the others and I am really looking forward to seeing them with you. I know that no matter what, it'll be an amazing trip as long as you're there to share it with. As always.

So, Happy Anniversary Bones. Times three. Believe it or not, I love you more today than I did ten years ago, but not more than I will tomorrow.

Yours always,  
Booth


	42. Letter 42

Dear Bones,

I sometimes wonder how you talk me into these crazy schemes. I mean, seriously? Me, going back to school for my masters at my age? I felt like the biggest idiot that first day, like I didn't belong anywhere near that Sociological Theories class with all those twenty-somethings staring at me like I was their grandfather.

You were right, in the end, of course. Things got better; especially when the professor made it known that I had 20 years experience in law enforcement. They fought over who was going to be my assignment partner, which was really nice. And Jerry turned out to be a really smart kid; he'll make a fantastic cop someday.

But the best part? Getting to walk up on that stage with you, Parker, Lizzie and the rest of our family watching as I finally got my degree. I can finally see why you worked so hard for your doctorates; the sense of accomplishment is overwhelming. I know we did some amazing things as partners, and it's the thing I'm most proud of professionally, but this…I can't describe it. It's hard to believe I almost missed this feeling.

And I have you to thank for that. Yes, I did the work and wrote the thesis and attended the classes…but you got me started and for that I will always be grateful. Your encouragement, support and love mean everything to me, and I couldn't ask for a better partner in life.

You make me a better person every day, in a million different ways, and I love you madly.

Yours always,  
Booth


	43. Letter 43

Dear Bones,

Today is always going to be remembered as a dark day in American history. Ten years ago, three planes deliberately crashed into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and another plane, full of brave Americans, crashed into a lonely field in Pennsylvania.

A dark day. I know you were there for the recovery, and I'll always be in awe of you for that, but my memories are more detached personally, as are most Americans'. I remember standing around a television at the Hoover with all the other agents as the second tower was hit live on CNN, ignoring the calls for us to evacuate the building. I remember the sense of uselessness, of feeling like I wanted so badly to be helping, but knowing that all I could do was stand there and watch helplessly as almost 3,000 of our fellow Americans were slaughtered in cold blood right before our eyes.

The intent of this attack was to break us, to bring us to our knees. But, as always, they underestimated the one thing they always do…the absolute, unparalleled spirit of the American people. We are a nation that came about from persecution, from the need to be free. 225 years of violence, wars, skirmishes, battles, fights…and they think that something like this is going to break us? Make us give up and capitulate? Not likely.

The one thing I remember most about that day was our resolve. That we all came together, all races, creeds, political affiliations…none of that mattered.

Because in that one, horrible yet proud moment we were all, simply, Americans.

And I've never been prouder of my country than I was on that day.

Yours always,  
Booth


	44. Letter 44

Dear Bones,

I have mixed feelings about tomorrow. On the one hand, I am looking forward to spending more time with you and the grandkids, but on the other…the fact that I'm retiring makes me feel pretty damn old.

I was thinking tonight about all the cases we worked (and solved, of course!) and all the criminals we brought in and all the interrogations and just….all of that we used to do. And I know, I haven't been in the field in fifteen years, but that might be the one thing I miss the most. The look in your eye when you found something in the bones that was going to crack the case wide open, the look on the suspect's face when they knew we had them cold…it's been one hell of a ride, baby. And I can't think of anyone I would have rather had riding shotgun with me.

Is it wrong that I sort of wish one of the kids would have gone into law enforcement? I know, we have amazing kids, and anyone would be proud of the fact that their children grew up to be a college professor, a molecular physicist and a successful novelist…but sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to show one of them the ropes, watch them move through the ranks and hopefully do at least as well as I have here at the Bureau. Eh, it's a dad thing, I guess.

Did I tell you that Charlie Burns was picked to take over as CCRS EAD? After all these years, it still makes me laugh that he keeps taking my old jobs. From the SSAC job when our partnership ended and I moved up to ADD, to that job when I moved up to Deputy Director to this job I'm leaving…he's always been right there. It's kind of comforting, in a weird way. And I know he'll be amazing. The Bureau is lucky to have him.

Well, since it looks like you've been asleep for awhile, I suppose I'd better get to bed as well. I hope they didn't do anything special for tomorrow; I hate those pathetic retirement parties…everyone gathering around to eat free cake and talk about the "good old days". Ugh, I'll pass. What do you say we skip everything and head to Rehoboth for the week?

Getting old would suck if it weren't for you, Bones. I'm glad you decided to stick with my wrinkled, crabby, graying ass. What would I do without you?

Yours always,  
Booth

**A/N: In case you were wondering, SSAC: Supervisory Special Agent (Booth's current job), ADD: Assistant Deputy Director, CCRS EAD: Criminal, Cyber, Response and Services Executive Assistant Director.**


	45. Letter 45

**A/N: The idea for this letter was gratefully suggested by Thnx4theGum. Thnx! ;)**

Dear Bones,

Well, it looks like we're going to be grandparents again. For some reason, the idea of that doesn't make me feel as old as you'd think. Yes, I know I get obsessed sometimes with my age, but as we've gotten older, I think our lives have only gotten better…so what reason do I have to complain?

No reason, especially now. Our Jake, a dad. How amazing is that? When he and Rich decided to adopt, I was a little worried about it. Not because I thought they shouldn't…that's never been an issue. They're going to be amazing parents. But I wasn't sure if they weren't setting themselves up for disappointment. Even in this day and age people are so narrow-minded. (I can hear your eyes rolling, Temperance, knock it off. I have evolved, thanks to you.) I didn't want them to get excited about something that might not ever happen.

But as usual, God knows what He is doing. I think I fell in love with that little girl the second they showed me her face. And the look on our son's face when he showed me Heather's picture? I remember feeling that exact feeling when he was born. Proud, ecstatic, a little nervous, a little terrified…but so damn happy. And now Jake gets to experience all that joy himself, and he gets to share it with someone he loves.

But the best part? He is so much like his mother…I always knew you had a big, beautiful heart and now you've passed it on to our son, and I am so grateful. For Jake and Rich to adopt a foster child…I have no words for how proud that makes me. Jake is a living, breathing, loving testament to what an amazing mother he had. And now he can pass that love on to another child, a child who was born into less than ideal circumstances, but will now know only love and acceptance for the rest of her life.

And now I am proud, ecstatic, a little nervous, and a little terrified…It's funny how becoming a grandparent feels pretty much the same as becoming a parent. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Congratulations, Grandma Bones.

Love Always,  
Booth


	46. Letter 46

**A/N: This letter was inspired by an idea from Twitter pal lysaleelee. Thank you! **

Dear Bones,

I'm not sure I have the words to express how honored I am that you dedicated your final Kathy and Andy book to me. And to admit what you did, and in print? Humbled doesn't even begin to cover it.

I mean, I've always suspected that I was the inspiration for Andy…but you always denied it so vehemently I just assumed it was a mix of different people…different men. But now that I know you thought of me when you wrote those scenes? I have mixed feelings about it.

On the one hand, it's pretty hot. I am a guy, after all. (In case you didn't notice) So to know that you were imagining us doing the things Kathy and Andy were doing? Yeah…smoking hot.

On the other…it makes me a little sad to realize that we wasted so much time. If one or both of us had just been honest, just decided to talk about what happened (or didn't happen) that first time we kissed, maybe we would be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary instead of our 18th. But it really serves no purpose to think about that, right? I can hear you in my head right now, actually. "That's completely irrational, Booth." I know it is, Bones. I know. The important thing is that we finally got our act together at the same time, and nothing in this world can take that away from us.

I might be a little sad to see Kathy and Andy go, but in the end they found each other the way they were supposed to, and moved on to their happily ever after.

Kind of like their inspirations, huh?

Yours always,  
Booth


	47. Letter 47

Dear Bones,

Is it a little funny that I'm writing this while hiding in the guest bathroom? I think it is. And yes, I know that you're miserable, and I'm sorry for that. I wish that there was something I could do. I told you this while you were pregnant with the kids…if I could do it for you, I would. But unfortunately, like pregnancy menopause is something you have to experience and there's nothing I can do to help you except be here and support you. And remind you that you are most certainly not alone in this.

Did I tell you about the gray hairs I'm finding in the most embarrassing places? Yeah, I know you've probably seen them, and I appreciate your not mentioning them…but they still remind me that I'm getting old…er. And as much as I'd like to say that I am okay with that, you know I'm not. It's hard to remember a time when I could get out of bed without something cracking or creaking. Having a smoking hot wife helps that pain along, but still…I miss fluid joints.

The whole point of this letter is just to remind you that no matter how old we get, no matter how badly our bodies start to betray us, no matter how much time passes…I'll still be just as in love with you (if not more) then as I was twenty years ago. I'll always see you like I did that very first time…standing on that stage, looking beautiful in a floral print skirt and watermelon-colored blouse (Yes, I remember…how could I possibly forget?), taking my breath away. Always taking my breath away.

So throw open all the windows in the house, crank up the AC and yell at me all you want, babe. I can take it. Whatever makes you happy.

Believe me, it's so worth it. I've told you before and I'll tell you again…love is always worth it.

Yours always,  
Booth


	48. Letter 48

**A/N: The idea for this letter came from my good friend rynogeny. Thank you! **

Dear Bones,

I hate to admit this, but that kid who just picked up our baby for her first date? I think I like him. Don't tell Lizzie, because I still need to project the scary dad vibe, but he did a pretty fair job of standing up to me…and he didn't even seem fazed by my loaded shoulder holster.

He actually came to the door, introduced himself, engaged in conversation…I have to say that I'm impressed. I've been struggling with the fact that our little girl is grown up enough to even like boys, let alone date one…but the boy she chose made the whole thing a little easier. She has her mom's good taste in men, I guess.

So I think I might just sit here in the living room for awhile, and wait. I know our girl will be home on time, but good kid or not, I still worry about her being out there in the world without either of us to protect her. I knew when she was born that I would eventually have to let her go…but dammit, Bones. I didn't know it would be this hard. To me she is still that little girl with the bouncy auburn curls up in pigtails, crawling up on my lap begging for a story. Hell, I'm still dealing with her need to wear a bra.

They grow up so fast, babe. Parker is a dad…Jake is in junior high…I feel like I'm watching it at lightning speed and I can't do anything to stop it from passing by. I suppose I'll just have to adopt your accepting attitude and just be grateful that they're all happy and healthy.

But don't for a minute think that I didn't hear you crying in the bedroom after Lizzie left.

Yours always,  
Booth


	49. Letter 49

Dear Bones,

So today is our first wedding anniversary. And since the traditional present for this day is paper, I thought it only fitting that I write a letter for you.

When Cam first suggested that I take the Gemma Arrington case to a forensic anthropologist, I immediately dismissed the idea out of hand. I didn't like to work with other people, that much is true…but it was more the idea that it felt like I was giving up, admitting that I couldn't solve Gemma's murder on my own. Of course, it took me about thirty seconds to change my mind, and God knows I'm glad I did…but can you imagine how our lives would be different if I hadn't?

Maybe our lives would have worked out okay, but would they have been as satisfying? I know with absolute certainty that I would never have been able to solve nearly as many cases without you and the rest of the squints. Which means that professionally, you definitely made me a better man. You, on the other hand, would have been just fine without me in that area. You were already the most talented forensic anthropologist in the world; you didn't need me for that.

But personally? I like to think that, in that area, I helped you quite a bit. You always had the capacity for love and friendship and caring…but I can take some credit for the way you eventually began to not only express that deep emotion, but revel in it. As independent as you are, my love, that was the one area in which you actually needed me…and I am so grateful. It's been an honor to watch you evolve into this amazingly tender, sweet, outwardly expressive woman and know I had a small hand in that evolution.

What all this means is that although we are two separate entities, where it really counts, we are one. The center. Two halves of a whole. The beginning in the end, the end in the beginning. We just fit.

And hopefully we'll continue to fit…for thirty, forty or fifty years to come. I love you, Bones.

Yours always,  
Booth


	50. The Final Letter

**A/N: This, sadly, is the final Booth letter. I can't express how much I've enjoyed writing each one of these, and I am forever grateful for every single person who took the time to write a review for this little project. But now that the new season has started, I want to concentrate more on some unfinished stories and series I have, as well as wrap up my collaboration with BrainySmurfs, _State of Love and Trust_. So something had to give, and this seemed to lend itself to the most natural ending.**

**Thank you again for reading and reviewing. I appreciate it more than you know.**

**~NM**

My Bones,

So I'm sitting here in the chapel at the hospital, hiding from everyone. I know that Lizzie knew where I was going and what I was doing when she saw me grab my notebook, but she didn't say a word from her place next to you. She's a good woman, our Elizabeth. Just like her mother in so many ways, but I see flashes of myself in her dark eyes and I feel blessed.

And my Jacob, wow. He's become such a wonderful man, all the grace of his mother and the toughness (I hope) of his father…just the perfect combination of us both. I don't know if he's tough enough to get through this whole thing, but I pray that he is. I pray that we all are.

I called Angela to give her the news, and I hope to never have to do something like that ever again. After she lost Jack all those years ago, our Ang was so strong and stoic for her children…but now that they are grown and have children of their own, she doesn't have to be as strong and I think losing you is breaking her. She loves you so much, Bones. She's lost the only sister she's ever had, and I only hope that she'll let us all be there for her. I just never imagined that she and I would be the last of the team left. It's surreal to realize that the only thing that could break us up was death…but it's also a comfort in ways I'll never be able to verbalize.

What I said to you before you closed your eyes that last time still holds true, Bones. I love you more than I can ever express, and I will spend every day for the rest of whatever life God decides to grant me missing you and thinking of your heart, your eyes, your smile…your everything. I still can't believe that the woman who once said that love was ephemeral and that we weren't built for monogamy spent the last 46 years by my side, loving me and only me. As always, you humble me, Temperance.

I was afraid that when this day came my heart would be crushed. That I might not be able to make it through one day on this earth without you. But I've come to realize that our story always had to move this way, Bones. I once promised you that I would never leave you, and that was always the one vow I swore I would never break…even if it meant that I had to try to survive your leaving me. You gave me so much in this life, so much which made me happier than I think I ever deserved to be. And if this is how I can repay you for that blessing, I am more than willing to make that sacrifice. Life is less sweet, less bright and less colorful without you, but to think that I disappointed you? That would be so much less than I can ever imagine.

So I'm not going to say goodbye to you, Bones. I know (and now you do, too) that you are waiting for me, and that single thought is what is going to help me get up every morning and keep breathing the air you no longer share with me.

Goodbye is too final. Our story was never written with an ending, it always endures.

Until I see you again, my love. My Bones…

Yours always,  
Booth


End file.
